Back to the Beginning
by vivienn
Summary: My first fanfic, at least on this site... anyway, AU where Ian Malcolm and Alan Grant are returning to Isla Sorna. Based mostly off the book, with some OCs and all that jazz. I suck at summaries, but the story itself is pretty good.
1. Chapter 1

Ian Malcolm sat in the jeep, his legs crossed and his glasses on. He always had them on. His driver, a balding man in his early thirties, prattled on about his job as a lawyer and the company InGen. Malcolm listened on and off. The badlands of Montana were rocky and dry. Malcolm tapped the dashboard.

"Hey, that's really great, but we're at the site." He announced as various trailers and large tents came into view. His companion scowled at him. He slammed on the brakes, throwing the car into park and pulling the keys out of the ignition. He reached into the backseat and grabbed his briefcase.

"These rocks are killing my tires anyway." He snapped. Malcolm ignored him and climbed out of the jeep, leaning on his cane. He was in his early thirties, still young in the mathematical world. His curly black hair, casual black clothing, and lightly tinted sunglasses gave him the appearance of a rock star, rather than a Harvard graduate who'd written hundreds of pages on the chaos theory. The only thing that aged him was his polished wooden cane, which eased the ache in his mangled left leg, a souvenir from his first trip to John Hammond's island. Malcolm surveyed the dig site slowly. Most of the people were students, bedecked in sunhats and t-shirts. There were smears of sticky white suntan lotion, and sun glinted off black lenses. A man walked up, probably fresh out of college. He pushed his sunglasses back into his curly red hair, reaching out to shake Malcolm's hand. He turned to the other man, who was pressing random buttons on his cellular phone.

"Uh, hi. I'm Mitch." He turned back to Malcolm, having been disregarded by the other man. "You must be Ian Malcolm." He jerked his head at Malcolm's cohort. "And he is-?" The other man muttered something to the phone, shoving it into his pocket.

"Hi, hey there junior. Brock Peterson, lawyer." He shook Mitch's hand loosely, waving a hand in front of his face. "God it's hot here. I'm looking for Dr. Grant. You got any idea where he is? I wanna make this quick." Mitch's face fell. He jerked his head over his shoulder to one of the smaller trailers.

"He's in the office. Let me just take you over there." He turned, casting a pained look at Malcolm, who shrugged. They headed for the trailer. Peterson stumbled over some of the loose rocks, cursing. They emerged into the cool interior of the trailer. Mitch walked up to Alan, who was leaning over a microscope on the scuffed white Formica counter. He didn't notice them until Mitch leaned over and whispered something into his ear. Then he jerked his head up and surveyed Peterson. His gaze traveled to Malcolm, and he grinned, moving forward and setting his cowboy hat on his head.

"Ian." He said, shaking the younger man's hand. "It's been a long time." Mitch hovered in the background, under the pretext of cleaning up the bones on the counter. Malcolm released Alan's hand slowly, memories of Isla Nublar filtering back.

"Dr. Grant." Peterson said smoothly, moving forward. He didn't offer his hand, simply stepped forward. "Brock Peterson, attorney at International Genetics. I assume you got my messages?" Alan shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He smiled but said nothing. Peterson cleared his throat. "Yes, well, ah- anyway, I'm here because of some, ah, complications regarding the contract drawn up between you and my company five years ago. Certain terms were overlooked in the misfortune subsequent to the first trip." Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Complications?" He repeated. He shot a look at Malcolm, who shook his head, leaning on his cane. "Enlighten me, please." His gracious tone was strained.

"Well, as you know, International Genetics offered you a grant to your foundation preceding your decision to come and, ah, validate the production of the island." He set the briefcase on the rickety wooden table and pulled an important looking document. "This is why I brought you here, as well, Dr. Malcolm. Kill two birds with one stone." Neither scientist found his analogy amusing. "Um, what I mean to say is, the contract is considered null and void, unless the trip was made to the second island." Alan narrowed his eyes. "And the company would require any down payments made to both of you repaid in full."

"How- how much?" Malcolm demanded, his voice strangled. He didn't remember the exact amount John Hammond wrote on the check, but he knew it had been a number of zeroes. "How much is expected to be repaid?" He also knew that he would never be able to pay it back, with the money he received for his work.

"Well, Dr, Grant, you received $500,000, which with interest and certain maintenance fees, comes to approximately $820,000 and some change. Of course I would work out the exact amount before having you pay." He ran a finger down the list. "Dr. Malcolm, you now owe roughly $900,000 to International Genetics." Malcolm kept a white knuckled grip on his cane, and behind them, Mitch had dropped a glass he had been cleaning, which went unnoticed.

"A- a moment please." Alan jerked his head to the unoccupied end of the trailer. Malcolm walked with him, ignoring Peterson, who was watching them avidly. Alan had the look of a man faced with something dangerous and unpredictable. "Ian, I have absolutely no way of paying that back. The funding doesn't cover old debts, and I can't take that much from the bank."

"I'm faced with the same problem. My nest egg is short a couple hundred thousand there." Malcolm tapped his cane on the floor. "They want something." He murmured, casting a discreet glance at Peterson. "He didn't mention this before, and InGen hasn't said anything for the past five years." He spat the number out bitterly. "I'm sure I could have found a way of paying this off back then. There has to be a loophole." He tilted his head back and cracked his neck. "It was a bribe. I shouldn't have-" Malcolm paused suddenly. "He said the contract was null and void, and we have to pay the loan back." Malcolm realized. Alan cocked his head to one side, rubbing his neck.

"I remember him saying that." He reminded Malcolm, unsure where the mathematician was going.

"He said the contract was null and void, and we had to pay the loan back." He said again. "Unless, we visited the second island." Alan quietly observed Ian in a manner similar to the look one would give someone who had just said they were a cactus, and asked if one could move from the sun so they could continue their photosynthesis. "I know what you're thinking Alan, but I can't pay this back. I, for one, have no other option. I don't know what being a professor of Paleontology entitles one to."

"No need to get snippy, Ian." Alan reprimanded quietly. "What you're suggesting could work, in theory, unless that's no longer an option." Malcolm cleared his throat and gave Alan a pointed look. "Of course, that would mean the payment was no longer option." Alan grasped. "Ian, I don't want to go back there."

"Neither do I." Malcolm replied. He didn't wait for Alan's response, simply turned to Peterson. "Mr. Peterson. I find it quite interesting you didn't feel it necessary to mention this considerable debt to me during the five hour car ride to the badlands." Peterson tried to smile, but Malcolm continued without a pause. "However, in view of this- situation, one would call it, we accept your offer of a trip to the second island, wherever this is, to clear this little matter." Peterson's jaw dropped. Clearly he had orders to steer the solution in the direction of the repayment in place of a second trip. "This is possible, right?" Malcolm smiled good- naturedly.

"Of- of course." Peterson's voice was small, and he tugged nervously on his collar as he flipped through the pages. "But, considering the circumstances of your visit to the first island, I'd assume you'd find a payment of a few thousand much easier." He tapped a page hesitantly. "You'd- you would need to stay at least twenty four hours." He seemed slightly more confident. "I've never been there, but I would think-"

"Mr. Peterson, the debt InGen springs on us five years after the 'tragedy' that occurred on Isla Nublar is considerably more than a few thousand." Alan interrupted angrily, all trace of civility vanishing. Peterson paled. "We both survived the first trip, and I'd think we'd be more than capable of surviving a day there. We'd of course be able to bring a team of our own? On our own terms, paid for by us?" Peterson nodded helplessly. "What other survivors would have to go?"

"Eleanor Sattler was with you, and received joint custody of the payment." Peterson mumbled. "It's your decision to call her and ask her to go. Alexis and Timothy Hammond were not paid to go, and have no obligations of payment. There were- no other survivors." Alan nodded grimly.

"You can tell you superiors that we've made the decision to travel to the second island on our terms, with a few friends of mine that I will, of course, pay for." He told the shaking, sweaty lawyer. He turned to Mitch, but then looked back at Peterson. "I have nothing else to say to you. Unless there's something vitally important I need to know, have InGen call me with dates and directions." Peterson licked his lips. He stood frozen for a moment, and left the trailer without another word. Malcolm, Alan was satisfied to see, did not leave with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note- Umbrella Corp. has nothing to do with Resident Evil Franchise.**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing. sigh**

Alan nursed the beer in his hand, leaning across the booth and whispering to his companions. One was a burly man in his late fifties, with steel grey hair and a grim face. The other man was younger, in his mid thirties. He had thick glasses and a nervous, twitchy look.

"Help me understand, Alan." The younger one hissed. "You help me get into a good ring of scientists, and I have to repay you by getting a helicopter to take you to a dinosaur infested island?" He was Richard Levine, a grad student of Alan's who along with Alan's help and considerable donations from his father, now worked for Umbrella Corporation, one of the most influential scientific research facilities in the country, possibly even the world. The older man was Dr. Robert Thorne, a friend of Alan's and a fellow science teacher. He was retired now, but he had been considered one of the greatest teachers to grace the halls of Burkley.

"I'm calling in the favor, Rich." Alan said calmly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. "I just need to borrow it to fly down to Costa Rica by five o'clock on June fifteenth, and once more to pick us up at five the following day. I'm not asking you to go." Richard didn't look completely convinced. "Richard, you would not be at Umbrella without my help and your father's money. You're a smart guy, but think about it. Would you really have been able to get in without me? You don't even have to ride down. I just need to take a few people down and back up."

"What makes you think Richard and I don't want to go?" Thorne asked quietly. "I think going to dinosaur land sounds like a helluva thrill." He elbowed Richard, who looked ready to throw up. "Let me guess. You need to borrow a ride for the night?" Alan grinned sheepishly.

"I'll be returning the favor if I survive." He offered. Thorne laughed loudly. He slapped a heavy hand on the table. Several other patrons shot him a scandalized look. He ignored them.

"Al, if you take me on this little trip of yours, the favor's paid back in full." He assured Alan. "And you'll need to take to take Richard here, Mr. Super Intelligent Geneticist, who I'm sure, would jump at the chance to report to his bosses, the puppet masters of society, what the greatest genetic advances the world has ever seen actually look like." Richard appeared torn.

"I- I guess I could get a chopper for you." He said uncertainly. "I mean, I have you to thank for my job." Alan took a swig from the dark brown bottle, setting it back on the table with a heavy thud.

"This is excellent." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and flagged the waitress over, taking out his wallet. Thorne and Richard followed suit, but Alan stopped them. "Consider this a down payment for the next thing I need." He said, pulling out two twenties and handing them to the girl after scanning the bill. "I need a weapons specialist and an engineer."

"Alan. You are just the man I need to talk to." The girl plunked down in front of Alan, sweeping her long black hair over one shoulder. "I heard tell of a little trip you're taking to pay back InGen." Alice O'Malley was a paleontologist working with Alan in the badlands. At twenty eight, she showed more promise as a scientist than most of both the students and the veterans. Alan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest "Mitch can't keep his mouth shut." She confessed.

"Well, Alice. You know this is true. Why do you need to see me about it?" He feigned curiosity, knowing she was perfectly capable of working out the whole story by herself. She probably knew more than she should about InGen's islands. "Something to do with the fossils here? I'll expect Carl to be taking care of them, if that's what you want." He knew, of course, this wasn't what she wanted, and she knew that he knew what she really sought after.

"Of course, since Carl is the obvious choice. He's been here the longest." Alice smiled. "Aside from you, Alan." She cleared her throat, drumming her long, perfectly red nails on the table. That was the strangest thing about Alice. She didn't care at all how she looked, wherever she was going. She could go to a black-tie affair in jeans and a coffee stained tank top. But she insisted on having her nails perfect, and redid them every night. Alan had never seen them chipped. "I was at the bar last night, and I couldn't help but overhearing you and your two friends." That was another weird thing about her. She could be incredibly devious sometimes.

"Oh, I see." Alan nodded, smiling slightly. "You wanted to know if I could get you a job at Burkley, or Umbrella. Is that it?" He was stalling, and they both knew it. Alice shook her head, tilting it to one side and smiling prettily.

"Alan, I seem to remember Ellie Sattler went with you on your first trip, because Hammond had cloned some prehistoric plants and she had to check them." She leaned forward. "She was useful, right?" Alan shrugged. Alice leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I can be useful."

"Absolutely not." He said firmly. This wasn't like with Ellie. They hadn't known the dangers back then. They'd been so excited, when Hammond proposed the idea. It had been a chance to confirm all their work, all their theories. And then- then it had been a nightmare. They still talked of course. They'd been close back then, and still were. He'd been to her wedding, and visited her after she'd had her first son, a year ago. She confided in him, often, that she still had nightmares. He wouldn't do that to another innocent person.

"Alan, you didn't even consider it." Alice whined, sounding more like a petulant child than a paleontologist. "I can help you. I've studied these animals." Alan glared at her. "I mean, I know you have to," she rushed, thinking hard. "But I meant to say you might need me. I have- have- connections." She blurted. Alan raised an eyebrow. "I can get almost anything you need." He didn't look swayed. "Okay, I can't. But Alan, I'm not a kid. I can handle myself. This is an important move in my career." Alan sighed. He shook his head. "I'll find a cheap, less safe way down there. My blood is on your hands if I die." She warned. Against his will, Alan laughed.

"I've been notified." He replied sarcastically. "Alice, I don't control you, but this is between me and InGen. I'm taking the people I need, and not the people who have no use." She pouted. "I'm not saying you aren't useful. Just that you aren't on this trip."

The trailer was becoming increasingly hot, and Alan wanted to get back to his research. He didn't want to think about the impending stay on the island, which he now knew was Isla Sorna, about 50 miles away from Isla Nublar, and half the size. The door creaked open, and Malcolm entered the trailer. He was staying at a motel just outside of the dig site until just after the trip, at which point he would be returning to his home in Texas. If he survived. He wanted to stay close to fully detail their plans, so no mistakes would happen, unlike the last time he had visited John Hammond's pet project. Right now, they were supposed to be meeting with one of Thorne's suggested artillery experts, as well as Thorne himself, to make sure the man or woman was qualified enough. Malcolm was picking Alan up.

"Ready when you are, Alan." Malcolm leaned against the counter, tapping his cane on the floor. He seemed to notice Alice for the first time. "Oh, hello. You must be one of Alan's students." He glanced down at her. "I'm Ian Malcolm."

"Well, hello, Dr. Malcolm. Alice O'Malley." Alice said flirtatiously. Alan's heart sank. He knew from experience that Malcolm was a sucker for beautiful women, and Alice was indeed a beautiful woman. She was tall and graceful, and when she wanted to, could seduce anyone into letting her get her way. She shot Alan a smirk, standing and shaking Malcolm's hand. "Do you want a beer?" She bent to the refrigerator, pulling out some bottles. Malcolm shook his head, his eyes locked on Alice.

"No, no." He waved a hand dismissively. "I haven't drank since my third wife left me." He explained. Alice peered at him strangely. "She was an alcoholic. Do you have water?" She handed him a bottle of Poland Springs, pulling the cap off a beer bottle.

"Alan?" She held the bottle forward, and Alan accepted with the feeling he would need a drink soon. "So, Dr. Malcolm, I hear you and Alan are going to Dinosaur Island." Malcolm spat out a mouthful of water, coughing. He shot an agitated look at Alan.

"D- Dinosaur Island, hmm?" He wiped his chin with his sleeve, taking another long drink. "That what the kids are calling it, now?" Alice tapped her nail on the counter, studying the assorted chips and random stains. "Yeah, when I was in college we called it Costa Rica." Alice snorted, drinking from her own beer.

"I'm not in college. I graduated four years ago. With a Masters, I should say." Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Besides, I have a feeling you might need a paleontologist where you're going."

"Oh, you do?" Malcolm asked. "You see, I was going under the assumption that Alan here was a paleontologist as well. Alan, have you been lying to me for five years? What do you really do here?" Alan had to commend Malcolm's job at trying to shift the direction of the conversation.

"I cook."

"Well, yes. Alan is a paleontologist." Alice replied impatiently, with a wave of her hand. "But I graduated four years ago, and Alan graduated sixteen years ago. I know more stuff." Malcolm frowned, staring at her hand.

"What kind of paleontologist has immaculate nails?" He asked. Alice ignored him. She drummed her nails on the table again.

"You agree I could be useful?" She demanded. Behind her, Alan shook his head desperately. Malcolm didn't notice.

"Yeah, I suppose you could. But I'm not handing out permission slips. This isn't a trip to the museum of Natural Science." Malcolm said. He flourished his bottle at her. "You're a little young to be scarred for life." To Alan's horror, he gave her a thumb's up and drank from his bottle. "Hey if you want to spend years in therapy, and suffer from horrible nightmares and constant insomnia because of what you see, that's your choice. I guess it's a learning experience." Alan bowed his head in defeat as Malcolm headed for the door. "Car's running when you're ready, Alan. Until we meet again, Miss O'Malley." He left, the door slamming in his wake.

"Fine, Alice. It looks like you've been approved." Alan tossed the beer into the blue plastic recycling bucket that overflowed with the bottles. Next to it, cardboard cases were flattened and neatly stacked. "I'm telling you now. This is something you really don't want to do." Alice smiled sweetly at him.

"We'll see, Alan." She said, giving him a girlish wave as he left the trailer. "I have a feeling this is exactly what I want."


End file.
